The Iphis Incident: Ovid's Accidental Discovery of Gender Dysphoria
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Athens Journal of History - Volume 7, Issue 2, April 2021 – Pages 95-116 The Iphis Incident: Ovid’s Accidental Discovery of Gender Dysphoria By Ken Moore* This article examines what the author argues is Ovid's accidental discovery of gender dysphoria with recourse to an incident in the Metamorphoses. The author argues that Ovid has accidentally discovered gender dysphoria as evidenced through the character of Iphis in Book IX of the Metamorphoses. It is unlikely that Ovid could have imagined the ramifications of such a “discovery”; however, the “symptoms” described in his narrative match exceedingly closely with modern, clinical definitions. These are explored in the article along with how Ovid may have, through personal experience, been able to achieve such a penetrating, albeit accidental, insight. The wider, epistemological context of this topic is considered alongside Ovid's personal circumstances which may have contributed to his unique understanding of a condition that modern science has only recently identified. There are relatively few examples from ancient Greek and Roman literature that entail individuals having experienced something like the modern condition of transgenderism. One stands out above the others for sheer detail, along with emotional and psychological depth, that resonates quite well with issues faced by modernity. This is to be found in Ovid’s brief narrative about Iphis, at the end of book IX of the Metamorphoses. The text of this short episode is crucial in order to come to grips with this subject and I have included most of it here, in quotes as well as in appendices, as I deem it relevant to our understanding. Other aspects to be considered will be how previous scholars have treated this subject, Ovid’s apparent views on gender and sexuality, along with known and suspected influences on those views as represented in his cultural context. I will also consider modern, clinical definitions that may be applied as well as Ovid’s own curious relationship with Iphis’ fictional situation. This article, then, questions whether previous interpretations of the tale are correct and aims at a new interpretation along lines suggested in the title. While Ovid’s Iphis narrative will be the subject of this work, other such instances of mis- or re-gendering/mis- or re-sexing bear some mention by contrast, if only in passing, because they indicate that ancient imaginations contemplated such phenomena. There is, of course, the famous case of Tiresias, born a man, changed into a woman and then back again to a man. He was, in effect, mis-gendered, as a consequence of being re-sexed, by an act of the gods and, while a woman, would have (one imagines) experienced a kind of gender dysphoria until the change was reversed. Something similar may be said of Dionysus’ misgendering of Pentheus in the Euripides’ Bacchae except that the *Senior Lecturer in the History of Ideas, History BA (Hons) Course Leader, Teesside University, UK. https://doi.org/10.30958/ajhis.7-2-1 doi=10.30958/ajhis.7-2-1 Vol. 7, No. 2 Moore: The Iphis Incident: Ovid’s Accidental Discovery< king was also forcibly placed into an altered mental state and would perish at the hands of his mother an aunt before he could fully contemplate his situation. Even so, we know that he dreaded the prospect of donning female attire (899-90) and threfore we may predict that he would have suffered something like gender dysphoria were he in his right mind when made to dress as a bacchant. The tale of Hermaphroditus who became neither male nor female through the infatuation of a meddling nymph is arguably another example. A case could be made for Attys, the priest of Cybele, who in Catullus’ poem expresses confusion about his new status as a eunuch after self-castration. A few other examples might be ferreted out; however, Iphis is unique. Her transformation from female to male was something that she desired and the story also has (somewhat unusually in the Metamorphoses) a happy ending. There are a few additional preliminaries that need to be dispensed with before continuing with this analysis. Firstly, I shall refer to Iphis hereafter with the masculine pronouns. Iphis clearly sees himself as male, albeit within a biologically female body. And he eventually gets re-sexed so that his body matches his gender. Following on from that, ‚gender‛ will be used here to refer to one’s internally perceived gender identity (male, female or intersexed etc.). ‚Sex‛ will refer to the anatomical state of being biologically male, female or intersexed etc. and sometimes to the act of sexual intercourse; although, I normally use ‚sexual relations‛ or ‚intercourse‛ for that. ‚Sexuality‛ will be employed in the sense of broader phenomena such as sexual orientation but also at times inclusive of gender and sex. The ancients did not have expressions such as ‚homosexual‛ and ‚heterosexual‛, and so ‚same-sex‛ or ‚mixed-sex‛ are the most clinically accurate terms. I will, however, be using the designation ‚heterosexual‛ at times for reasons that should become fairly apparent. These terms can cause confusion and, when used improperly, can be offensive. Therefore I aim for clarity of expression in laying them out here in an explicit way. Ovid’s tale of Iphis, and his beloved Ianthe, is fleeting but highly provocative. It is about a girl, raised as a boy, who loves another girl and, by a miracle of the gods, is transformed into a biological male in time for his appointed nuptials. There has been relatively little written about this curious episode; although, in recent years it has garnered increasing attention. In the past, it has been variously approached from the angle of lesbianism, performative sexuality and sexual constructivism, along with being considered within Foucault’s zero- sum model. Some of those positions will be considered below as relevant.1 It is a fact that the tale represents the sole mythological example of female same-sex desire of which we are aware. But I believe it to be significantly more than that. 1. In this, I am particularly indebted to the fine work of D. Kamen, ‚Naturalized Desires and the Metamorphosis of Iphis‛, in Helios 39.1 (2012). While her interpretation took a different tack on this subject, her excellent research was an illuminating guide for my own in writing this article. 96 Athens Journal of History April 2021 Much of the scholarship has inclined toward discussing Iphis’ desire for his beloved, Ianthe, in terms of some kind of lesbianism—inasmuch as Iphis, while still female, is clearly in love with Ianthe, who is also female. A different interpretation is needed. The case of Iphis appears to be the first recorded instance, entailing true psychological depth, albeit fictitious, of gender dysphoria. It also, consequently, illustrates a kind of ‚therapeutic‛ approach to this condition, namely female-to-male transformative treatment, in this instance, by divine intervention.2 In framing this tale, and quite possibly by serendipitous coincidence as well as factors unique to himself, Ovid seems to have acquired a kind of understanding of gender dysphoria two millennia before it was officially classified by modern medical science. And that requires some further investigation and explication. Firstly, let us consider the episode itself, in detail. The setting is on the borders of Knossos, in the Cretan land of Phaestus. There Telethusa, the wife of a free- born man named Ligdus’, became pregnant. Her husband was not wealthy and he tells her, as Ovid wrote, that: I am praying for two things: that the delivery should be as easy for you as possible, and that you may have a boy. A girl is more of a burden, and fortune has not given me the means to support one. So, though I pray that it should not happen, if a girl is born, then she must be put to death. It is not that I want to command this: I know what is due to family affection and pray to be forgiven3 According to the Code of Gortyn, ancient Cretan dowries could be as high as a hundred staters and the expectation to pay that sum, or a proportionally comparable one, could have been financially crippling for a poor family.4 Exposure of female infants due to economic constraints was a real issue in the ancient world. This is not to say that the parents would not have felt some conflicting emotions about it.5 Indeed, both husband and wife break into tears at 2. Although, Iphis ponders whether the ‚arts of Daedalus‛ might not re-sex him, see below. 3. Quae voveam, duo sunt; minimo ut relevere dolore, utque marem parias; onerosior altera sors est, et vires fortuna negat. Quod abominor, ergo edita forte tuo fuerit si femina partu, (invitus mando: pietas, ignosce!) necetur (675-79). 4. See R. F. Willetts, ed. The Law Code of Gortyn. Walter de Gruyter & Co.: Berlin, 1967, Col. X.14–20. We do not know if Ovid ever studied the ancient Cretan legal system but he did take preliminary studies in Roman law (Fasti IV.383-4, Tristia IV.10.27 and 34; and see the Elder Seneca Controversiae II.1-12 for confirmation of this), and they also had dowries, so he would have been keenly aware of the financial costs incurred by marrying off daughters. Ovid was also personally familiar with arranged marriages, having had one himself (Tristia IV.10.69-70), which in his case did not end well. 5. See C. Patterson, ‚‘Not Worth the Rearing’: The Causes of Infant Exposure in Ancient Greece‛ in Transactions of the American Philological Association (1974-2014), 115 (1985), 103-123.